


nothing's better than an apple pie

by clarkedarling



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, post 1x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 20:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20981828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarkedarling/pseuds/clarkedarling
Summary: The last thing Sidney expected to see when he returned home from meeting with Ms Griffiths was Charlotte Heywood baking away in the kitchen.





	nothing's better than an apple pie

**Author's Note:**

> i am a bundle of nerves waiting for the last episode and somehow thought that writing this would make me feel better?!
> 
> please feel free to let me know what you think of it in the comments. enjoy!

The last thing Sidney expected to see when he returned home from meeting with Ms Griffiths was Charlotte Heywood baking away in the kitchen. 

Alicia and Jenny had rushed towards him the second he stepped inside the townhouse, leaving him with no time to wipe his shoes or remove his coat or hat. Taking a hand each, they whisked him downstairs, a place he had never once ventured. “What’s the rush girls?” he asked, chuckling to himself as they yanked him harder when they decided he wasn’t moving quickly enough.

“Hurry up, Uncle Sidney!” Alicia sighed, sounding as exasperated as a seven year old could possibly be.

“You haven’t broken something have you?” he teased, as they entered the door to the kitchen. He was hit by the most heavenly scent of cinnamon and cardamon, a smell that reminded him of being a child and eating puddings by the fireplace before bedtime. Glancing around the kitchen, hoping to discover the source of such a delightful smell, he instead found Charlotte stood at the wooden table, overseeing three year old Henry as he over-excitedly stirred the doughy mixture.

She looked up at him, her bright smile faltering - this made his heart twinge. He knew she thought he was there to spoil their fun. “I didn’t think anyone was home, Mr Parker,” she said, her tone strained.

“I’ve just returned,” he informed her, as he removed his hat. “Why, are you doing something you shouldn’t?” He couldn’t resist the urge to poke fun, if only to get a reaction from her.

A slight flush of pink appeared on her cheeks, a trait that he couldn’t help but find charming. “Of course we aren’t,” she replied, crossing her arms, her brow furrowed. If that was an attempt to make herself seem unyielding, it was a poor one. The little crinkle in her forehead was more endearing than fierce. “We’re only making Mr and Mrs Parker an apple pie.”

“It’s a surprise,” Jenny chimed in, whispering as quietly as the chiming of a clock.

Sidney smiled down at his niece, as he ruffled her hair, affectionately. “I won’t tell, I promise,” he whisper-shouted back. He turned his attention back to Charlotte, who was rolling Henry’s sleeves up for him. Luckily she’d had the sense to make him wear an apron, though it was far too big for him. “Was this your idea?”

She nodded, at first unwilling to admit she had engineered the plan. “Just a small gesture to say thank you to them for welcoming me into their home and family,” she explained. Modesty was a rarity that Sidney hardly witnessed any more, especially amongst London high society, so to see Charlotte be so humble about ‘a small gesture’ that was far more thoughtful than she gave it credit caused his head to spin. Yet another example of how wrongly he had judged her.

Their eyes met, and he could have easily lost himself in her dark mahogany brown eyes. “That’s very kind of you, Miss Heywood,” he told her, sincerely. “Nothing is better than an apple pie."

His polite words took her by surprise. She simply looked at him for a few moments without uttering a word, as though waiting for a rebuttal. “You’re more than welcome to help, Mr Parker,” she finally said, holding out an apron to him. When he did not take it straight away, she retreated, shaking her head. “Sorry, you must have far more important things to attend to.”

Stepping towards her, he gently reached out for the apron, his fingers brushing her hands ever so softly. The touch was electric, for it was the first time they had made contact without gloves. “I’d much rather be here,” he admitted, his mouth moving faster than his brain. Charlotte, breathing heavily, her peachy lips slightly parted, pulled her hands back, almost as if she were flinching from him. She gave him a small smile however, which gave him some comfort that she wasn’t completely resentful of him. “Don’t expect any sort of culinary prowess from me. I’ve never cooked anything in my life.”

A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes. “You know, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest,” she remarked, a smirk playing on her lips, lips that he thought about often.

Jenny tied his apron for him, her little fingers working hard to remember the rabbit-ear knot her mother had taught her. It was far too loose and threatened to come undone at any moment, but she was so proud of her work that Sidney could only beam and thank her. At five years old she wasn’t tall enough to see anything on the table, so he hoisted her up to stand beside Henry on the wooden step stool.

Charlotte was doing a marvellous job at allowing the children to have fun, but still getting them to do the work. When Henry’s little arms grew tired of mixing, she instructed Jenny to take over, and asked Henry if he wouldn’t mind helping Alicia with washing the apples. Did the apples need washing? Most likely, yes, but by two people, and for longer than five minutes? No, probably not, but they were enjoying themselves. She even got them to make a game out the task, seeing who could make the shiniest apple.

She was unlike anybody he had ever known before. The more Sidney discovered about Charlotte, the more he despised the way he had been so cold and dismissive of her when they had first met. There were far more layers to her than he had suspected. She sparked a fury inside him, yes, a fury that was now feeling more and more like passion. That terrified him, and was half the the reason he held her at arm’s length, pretending that he never paid her a moment’s notice.

“Who wants to find me the biggest pie dish they can?” she called out, wiping her hands on the apron. Immediately, all three children cried out ‘me!’ and began to dart around the kitchen, opening every single cupboard door, rootling around to find the perfect dish. She laughed, a sound that chipped away at Sidney’s hard exterior piece by piece every time he heard it.

Her apron had come loose and he watched for all of three seconds before walking behind her and offering a hand. Hands brushing her waist, he ran his fingertips across the fabric of her dress until he found the straps. They were rather close, close enough that he could smell the intoxicating lavender soap she favoured clinging to her skin, close enough that he could feel her body stiffen as he neared her. That wouldn’t have been a good sign if her eyes hadn’t fluttered shut, her breathing heavy. The way she reacted to his touch made his heart beat erratically. There was no skin-to-skin contact; how would she behave then? The thought was like an electric shock, sending his mind haywire.

As he tightened the knot, Charlotte’s eyes flew open. She stepped away from him, smoothening down the front of the apron, clearing her throat. “Would you peel the apples, please?” she managed to ask, her voice sounding faraway.

He nodded and did as he was instructed. Peeling the six apples, he watched as Charlotte showed Jenny how to roll out the pastry, using flour to stop the dough from sticking to the rolling pin. Henry, who was growing restless and wanted something to do with his hands, impulsively picked up a fistful of flour and threw it at Alicia. Of course she retaliated, hurling an even bigger handful of flour back at him. Not wanting to be left out, Jenny joined in. Charlotte tried to intervene, when she received a blow to the face, the white powder streaking down one of her cheeks.

Now, most people, not just women, would be annoyed at having flour thrown at them. Sidney would argue that it was rational to be angry. However, Charlotte, as he was quickly learning, was _not_ most people. She instead burst into a fit of laughter as she too began to throw handfuls of flour onto the children. Their amusement made Sidney chuckle, a warm sensation flooding into his stomach.

After they were thoroughly covered head-to-toe in flour, Charlotte ended the fight by warning them they’d have no flour left for the pie. “Look at the state of you!” Sidney exclaimed, eyes wide, unable to stop grinning. “That’s going to be a nightmare to wash out."

The four of them exchanged knowing looks, before showering him in a mountain of flour. The fine powder coated him completely, and as he dabbed it out of his eyes, he heard them laughing, Charlotte’s laugh once again like honey to his ears.

“Ghost,” Henry giggled, pointing at him.

Sidney held his arms out in front of him, wiggling his fingers, as he made spooky sounds, to the delight of the others. He enjoyed making his nieces and nephews smile, relishing in their happiness. He’d come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t have children of his own long ago, when Eliza had snatched his heart from him, so being in Alicia, Jenny, Henry and James’ lives was a matter of great importance, not only to them but to him too.

As he watched Charlotte brush the flour out of her hair, and out of the girls’ hair too, he felt a stab of uncertainty. For ten years he had resolved to remain alone, after deciding that giving one’s heart away was far too excruciating. He had only ever envisioned a future, a family, with Eliza, and when she left he was forced to forget and discard his dreams. His life now, as a bachelor, had been so clear, so secure. No wife, no children. Yet, when he looked upon Charlotte caring for, playing with and adoring his nieces and nephews, everything seemed so unpredictable and unsure. He was torn between continuing on the path he had carved for himself, and allowing his feelings (for they were feelings, that much was obvious now) for her to take control and lead him towards the unknown.

“Sidney, do you want to chop the apples up too?” she asked him, pulling him from his thoughts.

He cut up the apples as Charlotte lined the pie dish with the pastry. With the trimmings and excess pastry she suggested that the children make shapes to place on the top of the pie. Henry wanted to make a lion, but soon settled on a cricket ball when a lion proved too difficult, whilst Alicia made a heart and Jenny made a star. Meanwhile, Charlotte took the apple slices and mixed them up in a bowl of caster sugar, more cinnamon and cardamon, and a sprinkling of cloves. Satisfied that each slice was coated evenly, she let Alicia pour the mixture on top of the pastry base, let Jenny put the pastry lid on, and finally let Henry put the decoration on.

“Would you like to do the honours?” she smiled, handing him the oven gloves. She still had flour on the tip of her nose and on her forehead, which he yearned to brush off with his hand, if only to watch her body react to him again.

Gladly, he placed the pie in the oven, which was already scorching hot.

“How long do we have to wait?” Jenny asked, perching herself in front of the oven.

Charlotte glanced at the clock on the wall. “Around forty minutes,” she replied. The children began to pout; they had clearly expected the pie to be an instant bake, something that would be ready-to-eat in a matter of minutes. “How about you all sit in front of the oven and make sure it doesn’t burn? Me and Mr Parker can tidy up.”

When faced with the burden of clearing up their mess, which included the piles of flour on every surface and on the floor, the children were more than happy to seat themselves down in front of the oven, though how long they’d remain there was anybody’s guess.

Sidney laughed, his niece and nephews’s reaction to chores reminding him of the way he and his sibling would behave when they were young. Still laughing, he turned back to Charlotte, only to see her licking one of her finger clean, the sticky sugar and spice mixture dripping down her hand. The seemingly innocent gesture caused his mouth to go dry.

He diverted his gaze, looking anywhere except at her. “I don’t see any recipe books,” Sidney suddenly realised. “Did you do all this by memory?”

Charlotte nodded. “It’s something I make with my family back home,” she told him, her hands all clean now.

“Well, it certainly smells good,” he said, wiping the table with a damp cloth. "My brother and sister-in-law are going to appreciate the treat very much. You ”

She seemed taken aback by his comment. That was to be expected; he hadn’t had many nice things to say to her in the past. “Was that a compliment, Mr Parker?” she teased him, her doe eyes sparkling.

"Contrary to popular belief, Miss Heywood, my heart is not made of stone."


End file.
